Withdrawal
by ill at ease
Summary: Sam tries to kick his demon blood addiction. Takes place after Season 4 finale. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Sam closed his eyes, leaning his head against the lumpy headrest of the car Dean had hotwired. He took deep breaths, trying to stop his head from spinning. Ever since the last seal was broken, Sam had been fighting the dizziness that was now threatening to overwhelm him. He felt a firm hand grip his shoulder.

"Hang in there, Sammy." Dean's gruff voice reassured Sam, just as it had always done since he was a child. Sam tried to summon a smile to put Dean's mind at rest, but it came out as more of a grimace. He was so tired.

He couldn't understand. Last time he had gone without demon blood for weeks before he had even felt shaky, but this time it had taken only minutes. Maybe it was because he drank too much. Maybe it was because he had used up all his strength killing Lilith. Whatever the reason, it was scaring Sam more than any of his hallucinations. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to die. Worst of all, he was going to leave Dean on his own to fight a battle that Sam was responsible for!

Sam shook his head. He could feel the tears threatening to break through, but he wouldn't let himself cry. Dean's hand still gripped his shoulder and Sam could tell by the force of his hold that Dean was just as scared, maybe even more, than Sam was. He would be strong for his brother.

* * *

Dean glanced at Sam again. It had been several hours since he had said anything, but every now and then, he would shift his position, reassuring Dean that he was still with him.

"Almost there, Sammy," Dean whispered, more to himself than to Sam. He had been driving at breakneck speed to get back to Bobby's house. He wasn't sure what they could do for Sam once there. Their first attempt to dry him out hadn't been met with much success, but what other choice did they have?

Sam pulled himself up straighter in his seat, opening his eyes for a moment, before squeezing them quickly shut with a moan. Dean's foot pressed harder on the already floored gas pedal. What he wouldn't give to be back in the Impala, whose top speed exceeded this piece of junk by at least 40 mph.

* * *

"Dean," Bobby said, standing in the doorway to his panic room. "Maybe you should get some sleep."

Dean was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the wall and his eyes fixed firmly on the sleeping form of his brother. "I'll be alright for a while longer," he said, shifting his weight to get more comfortable.

Bobby frowned at him, but said nothing. Dean had arrived four hours ago, dragging a barely conscious Sam to the door, and bringing news of the Apocalypse. Since then, he hadn't left his brother's side. Not that he could blame the boy. Sam looked like death warmed over and he had yet to open his eyes since being laid on the rickety cot. Looking at Sam now, Bobby felt a sharp pain in his chest. These boys were like family to him. Hell, they were family as far as he was concerned. Seeing Sam like this damn near broke his heart. He looked back at Dean and felt the pain in his chest grow even stronger. Bobby wasn't sure what had happened between the brothers since Dean had disappeared from his house, but it was clear that past fights had been forgotten. At least, for the moment. All that was left in Dean's eyes was pain and fear as he watched his brother struggle to stay alive.

"Ok." Bobby said, nodding his head. "Just call me when you're ready for a rest." He pulled the door shut behind him and began trudging up the stairs.

"Thanks Bobby." Dean's voice was soft and Bobby almost missed it. He paused, one foot suspended over the next step. Shaking his head, Bobby continued up the steps. He had never been a praying man, but he sent up a silent prayer then and there to whatever power might be listening. _Just let those boys be ok._

* * *

_AN: _I know, it's kind of short. The following chapters will probably be shorter too, but I'll be updating more often than usual, so hopefully that will balance it all out.


	2. Chapter 2

"Here we go again." Sam peeled his eyes open at the sound of Dean's voice. "You know, we already tried this. It didn't work. If you recall, you gave up and ran back to your demon bitch." Sam closed his eyes again.

"You're not him. You're not Dean." It laughed.

"Nope. But I mine as well be. After the way you treated him, he's gotta be pissed as hell." Sam remained silent. He wouldn't respond. He didn't need to. He knew this was all coming from his head. But he also knew that it was probably true. He opened his eyes and turned towards Dean's voice. His brother stood before him, bruised and bloody, and beneath the collar of his shirt, Sam could make out the red marks from the hands that had tried to squeeze the life out of his brother. His hands.

"You can't honestly think he'd still care about what happens to you after you did this to him. After you tried to kill him." Sam shook his head.

"I didn't mean to. It was the demon blood—"

"I know it was the demon blood. It was the demon blood that you willingly drank. You left us and crawled back to that evil skank to suck down more of her blood, and this is what happened." He gestured to his neck.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You think I'll accept that apology now? I've been telling you for months, years even, not to trust Ruby, but you chose her over me, your own family, and now, thanks to you, Lucifer is free."

"I didn't know—"

"Which is why you should have listened to me! But now it's too late Sammy. The world is ending and it's all because of you. And here you are, dying and leaving me to clean up your mess."

"Stop it." Sam whispered, trying hard to hold back the tears. "Stop it."

* * *

Dean shifted his position against the wall. The cold cement floor and iron wall was undoubtedly the most uncomfortable place he had ever slept, and that was saying something.

"Stop it." Dean's head shot up. Sammy was awake. He pushed himself to his feet with a groan and made his way over to Sam. His eyes were squeezed closed and his hands were balled into fists so tightly, that Dean could see little rivers of blood running down from where nails bit into flesh. "Stop it," his whispered again.

"Sammy?" Dean leaned over his brother, shaking his shoulder.

Suddenly, Sam's fist shot out towards Dean's face. He barely dodged it and took a step back, looking down into Sam's eyes, which were now open and glaring in his direction.

"You're not my brother, so just shut up. SHUT UP!" Sam turned on his side, and tried to get up from the bed, but his legs were too weak and he merely collapsed on the floor. Dean was by his side in a second, helping the spent man back to his cot. As he pushed him back down, he noticed how warm Sam's skin was. He had to be running a fever. Sam's hand shot out, grasping Dean's bicep and he tensed, ready for another punch to be thrown his way.

"Dean?" Sam looked at him as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "Is it really you this time?"

"It's me, Sammy," Dean said, trying to smile reassuringly. "Did you think one lousily aimed punch would scare me away?" The joke sounded forced. Normally, all Dean did in tough situations was throw out jokes to mask the pain and fear he really felt. He had gotten good at it over the years, but this was too much. This was his brother.

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam said, his eyes beginning to mist up. "I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to leave you with this." He turned his head away, bringing both hands up to hide his face.

"What the hell are you talkin' about? You're not going anywhere. You're going to kick this thing and you're going to be fine. I'm watching out for you, Sammy."

"You can't help me Dean. God, I'm just so hot. I'm burning. I'M BURNING!" Sam shoved at Dean, who had not been prepared for the sudden assault. He fell to the floor, watching in horror as his brother began to scream and writhe on the cot, clawing at his skin.

A door slammed open and Dean dully heard Bobby's voice, but he didn't register what he was saying. All of his attention was fixed now on his brother, his ears filled with the sound of his screams.

"Dean!" Bobby's hands were on his shoulders, shaking him out of his stupor. "Dean, what happened!" Dean blinked a few times, trying to bring himself back to grips.

"Uh, a fever," he stuttered. "His temperature is too high. We have to cool him down." Bobby ran out of the room, returning a minute later with several bags of ice. By that time, Dean had pulled himself together and was ready to act. With Bobby's help, he strapped Sam into the cuffs that had been left from the last time Sam had occupied that bed, and added an extra strap across his chest. He wasn't flying around the room yet, but the thrashing had to be stopped so that they could pack the ice around him.

Dean worked fast, throwing his mind completely into the task at hand, trying not to think of what would happen if this didn't work. Dean was looking out for his little brother, but what if that wasn't enough? This wasn't the first time he had let him down. What if he couldn't save him? No. He couldn't think like that. "Hang in there Sammy," he muttered under his breath, "Cause I'm gonna make damn sure I save you."

* * *

AN: Another short little chapter for you guys. Hope you like it.


	3. Chapter 3

"Cas!" Dean screamed into the night. There was no response. Truth be told, Dean wasn't even sure if Cas was still alive. He had stayed behind to hold off an archangel to give Dean a chance to stop the apocalypse. Cas had once said that archangels were heaven's most fearsome weapons. If that was true, then Cas didn't stand much of a chance. Dean had seen the angel get the crap beat out of him more times than not, so what chance did he really stand against the most badass angel in existence?

Still, Dean called for him. He was out of options, out of ideas. They had used up all the ice in the house, and finally, Sam's fever had relented to a slightly healthier 100.3 degrees. Bobby left to get more ice in case the fever came back, while Dean stayed behind to keep an eye on Sam. It was only a few minutes after Bobby had left that Dean came outside, screaming the name of the one supernatural being he had ever been able to trust.

"Cas!" Dean screamed again. He had been at this for several minutes, and he was itching to get back to check on Sam, but it was too early to give up. Bobby and Dean had done everything they could think of. It was time to get some help.

* * *

Sam sat on the bed, rubbing his forehead. Dean had agreed to undo the straps that had fastened Sam to the cot once he had demonstrated that he was lucid enough to stop trying to claw his own skin off. He left a few minutes latter, promising to be back soon.

Sam was glad that he was gone. He didn't like having to guess which version of his brother was real, and he didn't want the real version to see what this addiction was doing to him. Sam had chosen this path. He chose to become a monster to defeat one he knew was worse. But he was still a monster. Dean told him that to his face. He knew seeing what he had become horrified Dean and he was in no hurry to see that look on his face again.

Sam rubbed his forehead even harder. His head was swimming and he could barely concentrate. A warm hand rested on his shoulder. He leaned into it, feeling the heat from his own body lessen a little with the contact. Dean. As much as he hated to be seen like this, Sam was glad that his brother was there, taking care of him. He turned, expecting to see worried, hazel eyes, but instead, he stared into the grizzled face of John Winchester.

"Dad?" John smiled.

"Yeah, it's me kiddo. How you hanging in there?"

"Tired."

"I know, Sammy, but don't worry. It's almost over." Sam blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're dying. It's almost over." Sam stood quickly, backing away from the man before him. "It's going to be ok, Sammy, but you've got to stop fighting this. Just let it happen." Sam stared.

"What? What are you saying?"

"Sammy, you've become a monster. You can't go on living in this world. It's your responsibility to hunt evil, and now that evil is you. I thought Dean could do it. I thought he could kill you if you ever turned, but I was wrong. He's not strong enough, so you have to do this yourself." Sam shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"How can you say that? You're supposed to be my father, damn it!"

"That's not my blood running through your veins now. You're not my son anymore, and if you have any good left within you, you'd end this before it goes any further!" John was on his feet too now, screaming with as much passion as he had during any of their arguments from Sam's teenage years. "You can't come back from this, and if you don't do something, you'll be responsible for even more suffering than you've already caused! You're the reason Mary's dead. It was your fault that your brother went to hell. Now you've caused the God damn apocalypse!"

"This isn't my fault! This curse was dumped on me when I was just a baby. I was just trying to make something good out of it. And maybe, if you had given me a heads up instead of hiding this from me for who knows how long, I could have survived this!"

Somewhere in the back of Sam's brain, he knew that this was ridiculous. The fight was no longer about being right. Just as all of their fights in the past had been about, this fight had become a war of blame and guilt. Sam spun around, striding to the door before realizing that it was locked. He had no place to run to, no escape from this fight. He leaned his head against the cool iron. His head was pounding.

"It's alright honey." Sam turned to find his mother standing in the place his father had been only a moment ago. "He's just angry, and he doesn't understand." She walked over to the bed, patting the mattress as an invitation for Sam to join her there. He sank onto the hard mattress, letting his arm brush against his mother's feeling the comfort of her warmth.

"Your father has always looked at things in terms of right or wrong, black or white," she continued. "You and Dean were his only shades of gray. Saving people was the right thing to do, but he constantly second guessed his decision to raise you boys the way he did. When you went off to college, he let you go, hoping you would have a happy life and that you would be safe. Now, he's afraid for you. He doesn't know what will happen, and he's over reacting, like he always does." Sam closed his eyes, listening to his mother's explanation. His head was buzzing, and he couldn't concentrate on whether this made sense or not.

Instead, he asked, "Why did you tell me to keep going? I should have listened to Dean. I should have stayed in this room, but you told me to go and to kill Lilith."

"Oh honey," she said, stroking his hair lightly. "There's no way for us to know the future. We can't see what will happen in the future. We can only do what we know is right. You had to try to stop Lilith. You had to do what you thought was right then and you have to do what you think is right now. So what do you think you should do?"

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding head enough to think this through. What was the right thing to do?

"I have to stop Lucifer. I have to end what I started. I have to be here to help Dean." Mary smiled.

"Well then you have to start by getting better. Get some rest." She pushed on his shoulder, gently guiding him back against the pillow on the cot. She bent her head to kiss Sam on the forehead, and then she was gone. Sam closed his eyes and began to drift off to sleep.

* * *

"Cas!" It had been nearly a half an hour and Dean was beginning to yell himself hoarse. Five more minutes. He'd give it five more minutes and then he would go check on Sam. "Cas!"

"He's not coming." Dean turned at the familiar female voice.

"Where'd you come from?"

"I heard you calling," Anna said, taking a few steps towards him.

"Where's Cas?" Anna frowned.

"I don't know. Dead. Gone. Taken. In hiding. Whatever it is, I can't find him."

"But you found me?" Anna smiled sadly, reaching her hand out grasp Dean's. "I felt your pain. I know I'm not the one you were calling for, but I couldn't just ignore your calls." Dean stared down at their linked hands, allowing himself to be comforted by the warm touch of another.

"Can you help him?" he asked, ashamed to hear the hitch in his voice. Anna frowned.

"I don't know, but I can try."

* * *

AN: And chapter 3 is done! This one is slightly longer than the other two, and we're finally seeing a bit of hope for Sam. I have a few more hallucinations I want to get in there, but I still need to think about how I want to play them out. I also have a vague idea for how Anna might be able to help, but I still haven't decided whether her idea will do any good. So, the next chapter might be a week or two or three in the future, but fear not. It is coming.


	4. Chapter 4

I found my muse! It was hiding under the couch.

Sorry this chapter to so freakin' long to post, but I have had the worst case of writer's block. But I found to cure: Having swine flu and watching the first 14 episodes of Supernatural, season 4. So, without further adieu, here is chapter 4.

* * *

Dean entered the room, Anna following close behind him. Sam was lying on the bed, asleep again. His body twitched every now and then, and he was muttering things under his breath, too softly for Dean to catch. He turned to look at Anna, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the terrified look on her face. Was Sammy too far gone? Was she afraid that she couldn't help him? Or was she afraid of Sam? Would she refuse to help him?

"Anna," Dean prodded. She blinked, her features calming instantly as she faced Dean.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't expect that he had gone this far. Dean, Sam has so much demon blood in him. It's taking him over. I can try to help him, but I don't know if it will do any good." Dean tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat and nodded.

Taking her cue, Anna approached Sam's cot. She sat next to him, placing a hand on either side of his face. The muttering faded away and Sam's body stilled. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a bright glow began to emanate from Anna's hands. Sam's chest arched up, and a scream of pain tore through his throat. Dean stood rooted in the spot, not sure whether he should be helping Anna or stopping her.

Suddenly, the screaming stopped and Sam's eyes flew open. The glow from Anna's hands lit up Sam's face perfectly, and Dean was horrified to see the black eyes glaring up in perfect contrast to the light around them. Sam's hand flew to Anna's throat. She choked, her concentration faltering, and the light from her hands disappeared.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, rushing forward, intent to pull him off of Anna. The black eyes turned at the sound of his voice and the next thing Dean knew, he was flying through the air. His back slammed into the iron wall hard and he crumpled to the ground. He tried to stand up once more, but found himself instead pinned to the wall by a supernatural force. Pinned to the wall by Sam, who's black eyes now sparked with a wicked glee as he held his brother immobile and continued to choke the life out of the angel.

"Sam, stop it!" Dean cried. "Fight this!" Sam's face fell. He felt the pressure holding him to the wall disappear at the same time that Sam tugged his hand away from Anna. He buried his head in his hands.

"Get away from me!"

Ignoring his brother's instructions, Dean ran to Sam's side, gripping his shoulders. "Come on Sammy, you're strong. You can fight this." Sam looked up at his brother's face and Dean was alarmed to see his eyes were still black, though this time they were filled with tears.

"Dean, please," he sobbed, "I can't control this. Get out of here!" Dean shook his head.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sammy. You can control this. You stopped what you were doing. You just have to keep fighting."

"No!" Sam shouted, pushing Dean away and jumping to his feet. His eyes searched desperately for some escape, but of course, there was none. He collapsed against the wall next to a wooden cabinet, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his head in his arms.

Dean turned to Anna. "Ok, so is there a plan B?"

"This is plan B. I drove as much of the demon blood out of him as I could, but the rest has come to the surface now. It's up to Sam to suppress it, but I don't think he will ever be fully human again." Dean's gaze drifted back to Sam, who was shaking in his corner, fists clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Finally, he spoke.

"Thank you Anna. You've done all you can now. You should probably go."

Anna looked like she was about to protest, but when she saw the determined look in Dean's eyes she held her tongue. Instead, she placed a hand on one side of Dean's face and a soft kiss on the other.

"Good luck." She left the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Dean turned back to his brother and sighed. Anna had given them hope, but this was still going to be a rough road. How the hell was Sam supposed to suppress the demon side of him? Dean took a seat, eyes on his brother, and he waited.

* * *

Bobby pushed the door shut with his foot, making his way to the freezer to dump the four bags of ice his had in his arms.

"Hi Bobby."

Bobby's eyes snapped to the source of the voice, a petite young redhead who was sitting serenely on his couch.

"Who the hell are you?" Bobby asked, wishing his hands were holding weapons that would be a bit more useful than ice.

"My name is Anna." Bobby blinked.

"Anna? As in the angel Anna?" Anna smiled.

"Near enough."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to help Sam," she said, scooting off the couch and walking towards Bobby. He tensed, ready for an attack, but instead she just took one of the bags of ice from his arms and made her way towards the kitchen. Bobby followed warily.

"Help Sam how?"

"I brought his demon nature to the surface." Bobby dropped the ice on the counter.

"Excuse me? Isn't that pretty much the opposite of what we're going for here?" Anna just smiled and opened the freezer, loading one bag after another in.

"He has to be aware of it, that way he can fight it." Bobby was still skeptical. He looked around.

"Where's Dean." No doubt Dean had given her permission to try this little experiment. Maybe he could explain it better.

"Dean's with Sam."

"What? Let me get this straight. You brought out the demon in Sam and then you left him alone with Dean? What the hell kind of game are you playing at!"

"Bobby, for this to work, Dean has to be there. He can help Sam suppress the demon side of himself."

"Yeah? And how do you figure that?"

"Because Dean does that every day." Bobby frowned.

"What?" Anna had finished with the ice now and she made her way back to the living room. Bobby followed, determined to make her answer him. Anna sat back down on the couch, but Bobby took up position by his desk, leaning against the table and folding his arms.

"Look, I'm not sure if I should be telling you this. It's not really my place, but I guess you deserve to know. When Dean was in hell, his soul was carved up, piece by piece. But you see, the soul isn't easy to destroy, so they did it again and again and again. Each time, a bit of his soul was changed, and each time, little by little, he became more and more like a demon. He wasn't down long enough to turn him completely," she reassured Bobby, seeing the horrified look on his face, "but he was changed, and now he has part of that demon soul in him. On the night I got my memories of being an angel back, I also realized completely what had happened to Dean. At first, I was shocked that Cas and the others had pulled him out of hell. That's never been done before, and for good reason. The soul would be twisted, not fully human. And yet, the more I watched Dean, the more I realized this wasn't the case. There is a part of him that is still demon, but he fights it every day. I'm not even sure he realizes what he's doing, but he fights it and he remains human. That's what Sam needs to learn. I'm not sure if he can, and I'm not even sure if that will work for someone with Sam's . . . condition, but it was the only thing I could think of that might help."

Bobby didn't speak for a moment. He had already known that Dean struggled with the weight of what happened to him in hell, but the idea that he was part demon now . . . And then there was Sam. After all that boy had been through, loosing his mom, his girlfriend, his father, and his brother, it just broke Bobby's heart to think that this might be the one thing that could finally break him completely. Finally, Bobby looked back at Anna. She was sitting in the same position, gazing at him patiently.

"This plan is insane," Bobby said, shaking his head, "But I hope to hell it works."

* * *

Will it work? Will it? Well of course it will. Sam and Dean are our heroes, and the heroes always win, right? Right? Well you'll just have to come back for the next chapter to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

Warning: I do up the language in this chapter. If that makes you uncomfortable . . . . well, that's good, actually, because that's what I was going for. But still, if you would rather not read that kind of language, I do apologize, but I felt that it was necessary to get across what I wanted to get across here.

* * *

"You know, you can glare at me all you want, but I'm not leaving." Sam, who had been trying to stare Dean down for the better part of a minute, finally looked away. Though Dean refused to admit it to himself, he was relieved. Sam's eyes were still black. It scared the crap out of him to see his brother like that. Even though he knew this was Sam, even though he wasn't acting like a demon now, there was no ignoring that it was in him.

"You should go."

"I'm not leaving you Sammy." Dean adjusted his shoulders, trying to find a more comfortable position against the metal bed frame. He was sitting on the floor across from Sam, who had yet to move from his nook next to the cabinet.

"You don't understand. It's dangerous for you to be here."

"When are our lives not dangerous?"

"This is different!" Sam practically yelled, slamming his fist into the cabinet. "This time it's me and I don't want to hurt you." Dean smirked.

"You're not going to hurt me. I've always been able to kick your ass."

"Damn it Dean, will you stop fucking joking around!" Sam punctuated this sentence with another punch to the cabinet. This time, however, his fist smashed right through the wood.

Dean stared as Sam pulled his hand from the busted cabinet pressed both hands to his forehead.

"Ok, maybe I can't kick your ass anymore," Dean said with an attempt at humor.

"Shut up. Just shut the hell up."

Dean shook his head. Anna told him this would be a waiting game. Maybe it would be better if he stayed quiet for a bit and just waited.

* * *

Anna sat on the counter, picking off small chunks of her turkey sandwich to eat. Bobby was sitting on a stool next to her, eating his own sandwich and staring into space. Finally, he pulled his eyes back to Anna. She was nothing like what he had expected. The way Sam and Dean talked about angels, he had just expected any angel he met to be a total douche bag, but Anna was different. Maybe it was the time she spent as a human, or maybe it was just that she was making her own decisions instead of just blindly following orders like the others, but Anna was much different from the other angels. Even so, there was something different about her, something distinctly not human. Finally, Bobby broke the silence.

"How much longer do you think it will take?" Anna was quiet for a moment, taking another bite of her sandwich.

"I don't know." Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Well ain't you just a wealth of knowledge." Anna smiled and turned to look at him.

"Have patience. This has never even been attempted before. Normally, humans are humans and demons are demons. Sam and Dean are a strange phenomenon. I don't even know what to expect at this point."

"Do you think this will work? I mean, really. Don't give me some bullshit line just to make me feel better. Tell me the truth. Do you think this will work?"

"Yes. Before I fell, I never would have thought it could be possible, but now . . . I have faith in Dean. He has exceeded all my expectations of a soul released from hell. As for Sam, I've seen him succumb to the darkness, but I've also seen him fight it. With Dean's help, I think he can beat this."

"Well then," Bobby said after a while, getting to his feet. "We better make some more sandwiches. When those boys get out of there, they're going to be starving, especially Dean." Anna smiled.

"I'll get the turkey."

* * *

"Sammy, you're going to wear a hole in the floor." Dean rubbed his eyes, feeling the fatigue of these past few days creeping up on him. Sam, on the other hand, seemed bursting with energy. He had been pacing across the same eight foot stretch of floor for the past hour and he showed no signs of tiring. Dean sighed.

"Ok, quiet time is over. I mean, it doesn't exactly seem to be helping, does it?" Finally, Sam stopped pacing.

"I don't want to talk about this Dean." Dean scoffed.

"Well that's a change. I want to talk about feelings and you're the one who has a problem with this."

"I can handle this on my own. I just . . . "

"Well clearly you can't handle it on your own, so talk."

"Talk about what? That I'm a monster now? That I'm practically a demon now? What is there to talk about?"

"Sammy, you're not a monster. You just have to deal with a lot more crap than normal people." Sam let out a humorless laugh.

"Yeah? Look me in the eyes and say that." Dean looked into Sam's black eyes, trying to summon the words, but they wouldn't come.

"This is only temporary," he said, trying to reassure him. "Once we figure this all out, you'll be back to your old self."

"No, Dean, I won't. I've changed. I can feel it. You don't understand."

"Then help me to!" Dean shouted, pushing himself to his feet.

"I want kill you right now," Sam shouted. "More than that, I want to tear you apart, piece by piece. I want to hear you scream in agony. And I would enjoy it Dean. Now tell me I'm not a monster." Dean stared at his brother.

"You're not a monster. It's not about what you feel, what you want to do, it's about what you actually do. Sam, you spent your whole life trying to save people and, as screwed up as your latest attempts have been, you were still trying to help people. Just because you have these thoughts . . . it doesn't make you a monster."

"I knew you wouldn't understand," Sam muttered, turning away.

"Understand what?"

"That these aren't just thoughts!" Sam shouted. "They're so strong and I don't know if I can resist them."

"You can."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know you, Sam. You're strong enough to beat this."

"You don't know how strong these thoughts are."

"Yes, I do."

"How could you possibly know?"

"Because I feel the same thing." Sam shot Dean a skeptical look. "I have ever since I got back from hell." Silence greeted this pronouncement and Sam's look of skepticism turned to incredulity.

"You never told me that." Dean turned away, running a calloused hand through his hair.

"Yeah, well, can you blame me? I mean, look at what it took for you to admit it, and you're usually the touchy feely, let's talk about our emotions type of guy." He turned back to Sam, placing his hands on his hips. "Look, just because you have these thoughts, it doesn't make you a monster. What matters is whether or not you act on them. You just have to . . . . push them back."

"How?" Sam asked. The anger had finally left his voice, but now he sounded defeated. He sank down onto the cot, running both hands through his hair. "How do I push these thoughts back when they're practically all I can think about? How do you do it?" Dean sat down next to him, his shoulder brushing up against Sammy's.

"I don't know. It's not really one thing. I just . . . " Dean paused. He had never really thought about it before. "Sometimes I just try to concentrate on the job. Hunting evil, saving lives. It helps. When I'm doing that, I feel like I'm not evil. I'm protecting the world from evil, and it helps. Sometimes I think of Mom and Dad. I think of what they wanted for us, and I know that I can't give in to this." Dean paused again. He stared down at his hands. "And sometimes I think about you. We're in one hell of a mess. Have been ever since mom died, I guess. Hell, we've were in this mess even before that. But it's always been my job to look out for you, so I have to be strong and I have to stay in the game so I can do that."

Sam stared at his brother. Dean was making a clear effort not to meet his brother's eyes. He never was good at emotional moments. After a while, Sam shifted his gaze to the wall across from him at Bobby's poster of the woman in the swimsuit. He wasn't really looking at the poster, though. His mind was spinning as he tried to absorb what Dean was saying.

All this time, he had only been thinking of what the demon blood was doing to him, about the monster that he had become. It was time to stop wallowing in self-pity. Dean was right. He had to be strong. He had to beat this thing, not for himself, but for other people. He had just started the apocalypse. The world was facing hell on earth. Literally. He had to get back out there, save lives, hunt things. The family business. He had to be strong for his parents. He had to be strong for his mom, who had given her life for him. He had to be strong for his dad, who had taught him the values of a hunter. And he had to be strong for Dean. All his life, Dean had looked out for him, protected him. It was time to return the favor. Sam didn't want to be another burden on his brother. He didn't want to be someone who had to be looked after. He wanted to be there to have his brother's back, to protect Dean in the coming battle.

As Sam thought about all this, Dean watched him. At first, he thought he was just imagining the edges of Sam's eyes lighten, but he soon realized that the black edges were retreating, being replaced by the white edges and, eventually, the blue-green irises of the eyes that Dean remembered so well. By the time his brother turned to face him, his eyes were back to normal.

"Thanks Dean." Dean clapped him on the back, grinning. Well, as far as interventions go, I'd call this one a success. Now let's get out of here. I'm starving. Sam laughed, showing the first real smile in a long time.

"Figures the thing you're most interested in is food."

"Hey," Dean said, making his way to the door. "The last thing I tried to eat was stolen by a freakin' angel. I think I'm entitled." Sam just grinned even wider, shaking his head.

* * *

Ok, so I know Sam really mean in this chapter, but he's all gross and demony. What did you expect? Don't worry though. I promised to have this fic done before September 10th, so he'll be all nice and back to normal by then. (well, not exactly normal, but . . . . you know what, you're just going to have to read the next few chapters to find out.)

Also, I hope you enjoyed the intermission of Bobby and Anna bonding. For some strange reason, I think they'd make good friends, but I don't see them initiating that on their own. Ever. But it was fun to write. Can't you just picture them making sandwiches together? Maybe it's just me . . . .

Finally, I hope the Sam and Dean heart to heart at the end went ok. The boys are not fans of talking about feelings, so it's really difficult to write a believable situation of that actually happening. I think it all worked out, so hopefully you like it too.

Oh! I almost forgot, I already have the final chapter mostly written. I just have to go back and make a few revisions, but with any luck, it will be posted later today (or tomorrow morning, depending on where you are in the world).

Also, a special thanks to primadonna cat for pointing out that I got Sam's eye color wrong. . It's fixed now.


	6. Chapter 6

Wow, this chapter was up a lot sooner than I expected it to be.  
Well, enjoy. It's the final chapter!

(Oh, and I did post 2 chapters today, so make sure you've read chapter 5 before you read this one.)

* * *

Sam and Dean sat at the table, silently munching on their sandwiches. Sam was still making his way through his first sandwich, while Dean was already starting on his third. Bobby and Anna had stuck around long enough to hear both boys recount what had happened to them in the last day, but they had since retired to the living room to do some research and let the boys to finish their meal in peace.

Sam hadn't said anything since he finished telling his story. He was deep in thought. Again. Dean shook his head. Nothing good ever came from that.

"You wanna tell me what's on your mind Sammy?" Sam snapped out of his thoughts and glanced at Dean.

"No, it's nothing."

"Sammy," It was only one word, but there was so much more meaning behind it. Dean knew that something was up and he was letting Sam know that he wasn't going to let him just sweep it under the rug.

"I was just thinking about the apocalypse."

"Yeah, that is kind of the pressing matter right about now."

"No, I mean . . . I was just thinking that if I had listened to you from the start, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have brought on the damn apocalypse."

"Sam, it's not your fault! You broke one seal. One, out of sixty-six."

"But that was the last one, Dean. The one seal that had to be broken to release Lucifer. Without that, he would have stayed in hell, and I did it. This wasn't something that I couldn't stop. This was something that I did with my own two hands. It is my fault!"

"That's not true."

"Yeah? How do you figure?"

"The seal you broke, it wasn't the one seal that had to be broken. There were two. The last, and the first."

"What are you talking about?"

Dean took a deep breath. Since learning about the first seal, Dean hadn't told anyone. Not Bobby, and especially not Sam. Looking into his brother's questioning eyes, Dean felt himself pull back again. Sammy had always looked up to him, and he had always tried to be a good example for him, but now, with this . . . Dean blinked and looked away. Telling Sam that he had been responsible for the chain of broken seals was not something he had ever planned on doing, but if he was going to shake Sam out of this funk, he had to be completely honest with him. Dean cleared his throat, still not looking at Sam.

"The first seal was like the last. It had to be broken before any other seals could be. Without that, there was no way Lucifer could break out. I was the one who broke that seal. In hell, when I started torturing people . . . that was the first seal."

Silence greeted this revelation and Dean didn't dare look at Sam. The silence seemed to stretch on for hours, and yet he could still hear his confession ringing in the air. Then, suddenly, the quiet was broken by the last sound Dean expected to hear. Sam was laughing!

Dean looked up to see Sam leaning against the table, clutching his side, as he continued to laugh hysterically.

"What's so funny?"

"It's not that," Sam said, gasping for breath between fits of laughter. "It's just—" he broke off, laughing even harder. "We make quite the team. Some of the only people on the planet that know this stuff is real, spending our whole lives fighting against it. We were even recruited by heaven to stop all this, and we're the ones who bring on the apocalypse."

Dean stared at Sam, who had descended into another fit of giggles, not sure if this was some belated side-affect of the demon blood or if Sam had finally lost his mind. But the more he watched his brother shake with laughter, and the more he thought about the irony of it all, the more amusing it all seemed. Soon, he was laughing right along side Sam. Maybe it was the lack of sleep in the past few days, maybe it was a coping mechanism for dealing with the end of the world, or maybe they had finally been pushed so far that their sanity had snapped. Whatever the case, it had both Winchester brothers laughing so hard they could barely breathe.

"What's this?" A voice said from the door. "So the apocalypse is funny now? Impending doom, end of the world, hell on earth, these are laughing matters now?"

Unfortunately, instead of straightening the boys out, Bobby's reprimand only made them laugh harder. Bobby waited impatiently for the boys to pull themselves back together.

"Good. Now that you've got that out of your system, we've got work to do."

* * *

THE END!

Well, I had a lot of fun writing this story, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it. Now it's time to hand the reigns back over to Kripke and let the master tell an even better story than I can even dream of telling you guys. Have a wonderful September 10th everybody, and enjoy watching the season 5 premier!

Oh, and before I go, I want to thank everyone who watched my story or added it to their favorites. Getting those notices made me extremely happy. I also really want to thank all my lovely reviewers. Thank you Temi, Punky, Angeleyenc, Lilithakaducky, anniesmom, parinumal07, Jessica, supernaturalsammy67, and Romirola. Your reviews were little rays of sunshine for me over these past few months. ^.^

And thank you to anyone who leaves any more reviews. I really do appreciate them. ^.^


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